But when the last row of EMTs and officers stepped aside and let me through, my body betrayed me.
I stumbled back in shock.
About twenty feet away, Nicole was sitting on her front lawn in a bloodied nightgown. Her leg was twisted at an angle no leg should ever be. Broken. No doubt about it. And blood drenched the lower half of her face, dripping slowly onto her chest. The pain must have been unbearable.
Beside her sat the biggest Doberman I had ever seen in my life. A beast. Maybe a hundred and forty pounds? More?
It was guarding her. Not letting anyone close.
Its mouth was covered in blood—but not Nicole’s. If it were, Nicole wouldn’t be sitting next to it.
The beast sat there perfectly still. Alert. Its eyes locked on me. Like it was daring:Do it and see what happens.
Right behind them stood a man in his fifties. Unshaven, in boxers. A down jacket zipped halfway. He looked small somehow. A kid trapped in a grown man’s body with no idea what to do next.
I ran a hand through my hair.
This woman. Dear God. How the hell did she end up in this situation? She was one of the kindest souls I knew. Fierce and loyal. A nightmare when crossed, sure, but she didn’t deserve this.
“Fucking Christ,” I said.
I dragged my hand over my face, then looked up at her again.
“The EMTs can’t help her unless someone gets the dog,” an officer explained. “It looks like the dog won’t leave unless the victim tells her to. And the victim refuses to do so.”
I glanced over. His name tag read Mark Ellison. Low voice. Military haircut.
“We also can’t shoot it as long as the owner and the victim won’t move,” he added.
My eyes snapped to his. “Shoot the dog? For what?”
He quickly added, “Of course we wouldn’t do that.” His eyes flicked to the other officers, a silent exchange passing between them. “We also thought about bringing in one of our K9 units.”
I stared at him in disbelief. “And do what, exactly? Incite a dog fight?” My voice rose despite myself. “Are we all gonna place bets while this beast snaps our K9 unit in half?”
A few of the cops looked away. One EMT shifted uncomfortably. Nobody argued.
“Freaking idiots.” I looked back at Nicole. Over the radio, they’d told me she’d been attacked but was doing fine.
This was not fine.
“Nicole, we need to get you to a hospital. Your leg and your nose look broken.”
She winced as she shifted an inch. Her chin lifted, her eyes steady.
“They are,” she said.
I nodded. I tried to stay calm and adjust strategies.
“Are you the owner?” I asked, turning to the man standing behind them.
“Y-yes.”
“Can you please take the dog back to your house?”
He shrugged helplessly. “Ginny won’t move. And I can’t carry a hundred and forty pounds that far with my bad back.”
I gave another nod. “Is there anyone who can help? Someone the dog will listen to?”
